The Riverside Residential Rehabilitation Center was impressive. It had filtered water fountains dotted around, therapists on call 24/7, and rooms that rivalled suites in top hotels. Anyone would agree, it was impressive.
Even Nicky had to admit it, and she did, begrudgingly, as Marka practically dragged her through the doors.
Yes, it was impressive...
But it was still a rehab.
"I don't know why you're dragging your heels," Marka hissed as they sat in a large waiting room. "You remember our deal, I take it?"
Nicky sank back into the oversized velvet armchair she had thrown herself down onto, closing her eyes. It was surprisingly easy to drown out Marka's voice in this place, she noted, a definite plus for it. An intricate water feature trickled in the corner. It was supposed to be relaxing, she assumed, but it only made Nicky need to pee. She bounced her leg, the vibrations going through to Marka's chair next to her.
"I remember," Nicky confirmed. It hadn't been easy to convince Marka to shake on it, so it was unlikely she would have forgotten.
The older woman sighed deeply. "I know you're nervous, but there's really no need to be," she said, sweeping her hair out of her eyes with an expert head shake. She turned to look at her daughter. "I promise everything will be okay. And if it's not, then, you're in the best place, aren't you?"
Nicky fought the urge to roll her eyes, but nodded. Marka always worded things so that they were impossible to argue with. This was a conversation she could do without. Glancing over at the check-in desk, she wondered what the hell was taking so long. Wasn't the point of private, expensive healthcare was that you didn't have to wait for what felt like hours?
She shifted in her seat uncomfortably. "Only a month," she muttered to herself, gripping the arm of the chair so that her nails dug in. "I can do a month." For Red, she added in her head.
Marka looked down at her only daughter. She said nothing but held back a sigh. Motherhood wasn't supposed to be like this. It wasn't supposed to be worrying that your perfectly healthy child was going to die before you. It wasn't working yourself into the ground only to realize you missed every single thing your child considered important in her life.
Marka looked away. "It'll be okay, you know," she said softly. To herself, and to Nicky. Her eyes were trained on a fish tank on a stand across from them, unable to look Nicky in the eye. "Everything will be okay."
Red stood at the window in her living room, staring down at the wilting flowers in the window box underneath. She had gone to them as soon as she woke with a pit in her stomach. If she had hoped to find some solace in her small window garden she was sorely mistaken. It had only proved to sour her mood even further if possible, when she'd looked to find her tulips wilting and droopy.
"They're dying," she said to Dmitri, turning and frowning. "I've been neglecting them. Flowers need attention, you know. They need water and patience…" she sighed, slamming the window shut.
"They'll be fine, honey," Dmitri said, flicking yet another page of his newspaper over. He looked at her over his glasses. "You have the magic touch when it comes to plants. You always have."
"They're fickle," she continued as if she hadn't heard him. "Sometimes you can do everything right and still they die." She shook her head, lips pressed together, as she gazed out of the window. "It's bullshit," she said decidedly. "Complete and utter bullshit."
Dmitri set his paper down and placed his glasses on top of it. "Galina…" he dragged her name out, sensing quite correctly that this was about more than flowers she could easily revive. "Nicky will be fine."
Red's head snapped back towards him. "I'm talking about my flowers," she said with a frown. "Why are you making this about Nicky?"
Dmitri raised his eyebrows at her and patted the chair next to his. "Come," he said, nodding his bed toward the chair. He ignored her sigh. "Humor me, won't you? Come and sit."
Red did as he asked, albeit reluctantly, and sat beside her husband. She covered her hand with her mouth, the cold band of her wedding band brushing against her lips. "Today's the day she begins her residential treatment," she said, her voice barely a whisper. She rubbed her knuckles against her jawline. "She's only going because I told her to."
Dmitri sighed. "You did the right thing, Gayla."
"She doesn't think so."
"When do children think you've ever done the right thing?" He scoffs. "You don't do things so that they will like you. You do things to keep them safe. And you're keeping her safe, aren't you? She's getting the best care she could possibly hope for. She is a lucky girl."
"Lucky," Red sighed. She chewed her thumbnail, ripping a ragged piece of skin away with her teeth. "I don't think she would see it that way."
"Kids never do."
"She's not a kid anymore though, is she?" Red asked, pressing her lips together. "It would be easier if she was. Skinned knees and chicken pox, I can handle." She swallowed hard, looking away. "I can't handle losing her, Dmitri...I can't lose a child, not again."
He didn't correct her this time; he didn't tell her that Nicky wasn't hers, that she had a mother out there somewhere and it wasn't her. He simply took her hand wordlessly, brushing his thumb over the back of her hand. She looked at him, waiting for it - the lecture about not taking on someone else's problems.
Yet this time, he simply pulled her close. He embraced his wife, grief weighing heavily on his shoulders, and shook his head. "Everything will be okay, my love. Everything will be okay."
Marka looked up as someone finally called them over to the check in desk. "Come on," she said to Nicky, throwing her handbag over her shoulder. "I expect they'll show us to your room. About time, too."
Nicky raised her eyebrows, following Marka like a sheep. To her, barely any time had passed at all. If anything, she had wished they'd taken more time, because now it was real and it was happening and if she backed out, Marka wouldn't hold up her end of the bargain either.
"Welcome to Riverside! My name is Wanda, I'll be showing you to your room and answering any immediate questions. I see you already gave your name to the front desk so everything there should be taken care of. Are you ready to be taken up to your room?"
Nicky shrugged noncommittally and Marka nodded enthusiastically, so the orderly waved for them to follow her.
Wanda opened up the door to Nicky's room, stepping to the side so both Nicky and her luggage could fit through. Reluctantly, she stepped through the threshold and placed her bag on the floor. She looked around the room.
"This one is yours, Ms Nichols. There's an ensuite over there," she pointed across the room. "And your schedule is tacked on the wall over there. Don't worry if it feels a bit unsettling, we'll get you sorted in no time, and someone will be along to take you to lunch and group therapy until you know where everything is. Now, is there anything you'd like to ask?"
Clearly, she'd given this exact speech a hundred times over. Nicky shook her head mutely, rocking on her heels as she looked around the room.
"This is lovely," Marka said with forced brightness. She looked around the room and threw the curtains open. "Look at this view, darling!"
Nicky gave it a cursory glance and nodded. "It's nice," she said limply. She strolled over to the ensuite, where she flung the door open. She jumped upon seeing a man standing on a step-ladder. "Who the hell are you?"
"Oh," Wanda said. "That's just Joel, the electrician. He's just fitting a lightbulb. Sorry about that." She flashed Marka an apologetic smile.
"Shouldn't that have been done before we arrived?" Marka asked, her tone faintly irritated. She was acutely aware that Nicky would use anything as an excuse to get out of here. "It's not as if this is through my insurance, is it?"
Wanda shook her head emphatically. "Of course not, Mrs Nichols. I'm sorry about the hitch. If you follow me downstairs I can sort out something to make up for the inconvenience."
Marka glanced at the Swarovski watch on her arm. She gave a little shake of her head. "No, I've got to dash, actually. Right," she said, turning to Nicky. "You'll be alright here, won't you darling? Phone me tonight, and I'm sure I'll be invited to some of your therapy sessions."
"Okay," Nicky said numbly.
Marka leaned in and planted a quick kiss on Nicky's cheek, but pulled back before Nicky could do anything else. "This will be good for you," she said over her shoulder as she walked away. Nicky didn't know who she was trying to convince. "It will!"
"Well," Wanda said, lips pressed together as she watched Marka leave, "I think I covered everything. I'll let you get unpacked!"
Wanda walked away, leaving Nicky wondering what was going on. She sat heavily on the bed, her bag left packed at her feet, and stared around the room. She hadn't even had two minutes peace when she heard swearing coming from the ensuite.
Her curiosity piqued, she came to a stand and peeked her head around the door.
Nicky eyed the electrician as he unscrewed the lightbulb. As he reached up, she spied a pack of cigarettes in his back pocket. So focused on the cigarettes, she hadn't noticed him craning his neck to look at her.
"Are you staring at my ass?" he asked, raising his eyebrows. He smirked. "Look, you're blushing. Don't worry, I've heard I'm easy on the eye before."
"You're not really my type." Nicky looked up at him, crossing her arms. "And I'm not blushing, it's fucking boiling in here."
She waved a hand in front of her face, trying to cool herself off. It wasn't often she was hot and bothered but she was flustered in this new environment, wanted to go home, and desperately craved a cigarette.
"Yeah…" he said, deftly placing a new bulb in the fixture. "Addicts - sorry, patients - are usually withdrawing...can get pretty sweaty and then they shiver. So they keep it like a thousand degrees here. I guess that's what you get when you pay through the nose." He nodded at her. "You don't really look like they usually do. You got a different kinda addiction?"
Nicky jutted her chin out, raising her eyebrows. "Yeah," she said, hiding a smirk. "A sex addict, heard of it?"
He hung off of the lightbulb, his step-ladder wobbling as he stared at her, wide-eyed. "Really?" he asked eagerly.
"Easy tiger," Nicky laughed. "I was kidding. Don't hurt yourself. I'm just a standard heroin addict," she explained nonchalantly. "I was staring at your cigarettes, not your ass."
"Oh," he said, and she was almost pleased that he sounded disappointed. It had been a long time since anyone had paid her attention like that. Lorna had all but forgotten about her, and she had to admit, it was nice that he seemed interested, even if she wasn't. He stepped down from the ladder, leaning against it lazily, then pulled out the packet from his back pocket. "You want one?"
"Yes," Nicky said without thinking. Then, thinking about it, she narrowed her eyes. "What do you want for it?"
"Well, I didn't want anything, but now I'm thinking about it."
Nicky held back a sigh, closing her eyes for a moment. She should have kept her mouth shut.
"Hey. I'm just fucking with you. Here," he said, passing her one. He handed her a lighter from his pocket and sat on his step-ladder.
"Aren't there smoke detectors in here?" she asked, hovering her finger over the lighter as she held the cigarette between her lips.
"Mhm."
"And I'm gonna set them off if I light this..?"
"You got it," he confirmed. He nodded to the set of double doors on the other side of the room. "Lucky for you, your mom sprung for a suite with a balcony."
"Huh," Nicky said. She walked out onto the balcony, breathing in the fresh air. To her surprise, Joel followed. He leaned against the balcony railings easily. She turned to him as she lit the cigarette, rolling it between her fingers. Despite the smoke filling her lungs, she felt as if she could finally breathe again. "Isn't it kinda fucked up you're giving an addict yet another thing to abuse?"
"Cigarettes aren't an addiction," he said, scoffing. "They're an excuse for a break at work every few hours. Like weed. No-one ever died from it."
Nicky's lips quirked up, her eyebrows knitting together. "Lung cancer?" she offered, flicking ash to the people below.
"Well, who can really blame that on one thing - and such a little thing," he said, lighting up his own cigarette. He blew out a cloud of smoke, looking at her sideways.
"It's not so bad here," he offered, watching as she chewed the inside of her cheek. "Three meals a day, a room all to yourself…"
"Yeah," she said softly, leaning against the balcony. "Everyone keeps saying that."
"Maybe because it's true," he said.
"Yeah," Nicky said, taking another long drag. She let it fill her lungs, trying to forget where she was. Ironically, it was now more than ever that she craved another hit. She felt lonelier than ever. "Maybe."
A/N:
Thank you for reading. Thank you for the reviews on the last chapter, vauseandspanishharlem, guest, wallscollide, VeraRose19, and guest. Let me know what you think and what you'd like to see. I hope you're having a nice weekend!
- Star xo